The Cair Guards
by Guardian of Hope
Summary: Human. Outsider. There are many reasons to hate the Pevensies in the beginning. There's one group that defends them. AU, gen-fic
1. The Cair Guard

Disclaimer: The Chronicles of Narnia belong to the Estate of C.S. Lewis.

A/N: Um, the end of this is not meant to be taken negatively by those who use the term 'Royal Guards'. The reason Peter says what he does will be explained in another chapter.

* * *

Lucy couched on the stair landing, watching as her brother Peter walked down the hall with Oreius beside him. They spoke softly to one another, Oreius was his hands tucked behind his back and Peter with one hand on Rhindon. They moved past her and she stood up, watching them before she jumped up to sit on the banister. They reached her mental mark and she pushed off, sliding down the banister with a barely restrained whoop of joy. She hit the ground and ran, trying to keep her momentum as she leaped and wrapped her arms around Peter's back.

Peter stumbled, but managed to keep his feet, his crown askew and his sword trapped by Lucy's knee. "Lucy," Peter managed, "what are you doing?"

Lucy freed an arm and smacked his shoulder, "That's for not telling_ me_ you were leaving." She told him, and smacked him again, "That's for not telling me you were back." A third smack, "And that's for not bringing me anything." She looked up at Oreius and smiled, "Hi Oreius, how are you?"

Oreius bowed slightly, "I am fine, Majesty. I am curious, how did you manage to sneak up on King Peter?"

Lucy slipped off Peter's back and crossed her arms, "That was easy, I slid down the banister." She turned to her brother and poked him in the stomach, "Telling Susan to tell me is the coward's way out, Pete and you know it."

"Lucy," Peter said, "stop it. I'm sorry, ok? You're right."

Lucy regarded her brother for a moment and then kicked him in the shin again, "Don't do it again."

"Shouldn't you be in lessons anyway?" Peter asked.

"Aelius is so boring," Lucy replied, "I learn more talking to Mr. Tumnus and the Beavers than I do when he's lecturing. All he talks about is history, and he uses books that were written two hundred years ago. No matter what I ask him, he tells me I'm too young to know. For instance, I asked him who built Cair Paravel; do you want to know what he did?"

"What did he do?" Peter asked.

"He smacked me with his cane and told me I didn't need to know." Lucy replied.

"He did WHAT?" Peter said, his hand dropped to his sword, "When did this happen?"

"Yesterday," Lucy replied. "Susan's been busy with the Housekeeper and Edmund's holed up somewhere with that book."

Peter turned to Oreius, "I will meet you on the practice grounds as soon as I deal with this.

"Majesty," Oreius replied with a salute.

"Take me to Aelius," Peter told Lucy.

Lucy led Peter out onto one of the terraces, "He's probably in the Great Library waiting for me," Lucy said.

They were half way across the terrace when it happened. "Majesties, get down!" Someone shouted.

Peter knocked Lucy over and there was a clang of metal and stone. Lucy looked up and saw an odd looking arrow on the far side of a nearby marble bench. Peter got off her and there was a swishing noise as he drew his sword. Lucy started to get up, "Stay down," Peter said. "We don't know what's going on."

"Death to the Human!" A deep voice bellowed and Peter pivoted in time to block a strike from a centaur.

Lucy screamed and scrambled away as Peter fought the centaur and a faun. There was a growling roar, and then a panther soared over the bench to tackle the faun. More Narnians appeared, some trying to get at the Royals and others defending. Lucy curled up under a bench, clapped her hands over her ears, closed her eyes and screamed herself hoarse.

Someone grabbed her arm and Lucy lashed out, "Ow!" Peter yelped.

Lucy opened her eyes and found Peter kneeling beside the bench, ruefully rubbing his eye. "Peter?" Lucy whispered.

"It's ok," Peter said with a smile, "it's over."

Lucy wiggled out from under the bench and through herself onto Peter, who held her close. "What happened?" Lucy whispered.

Peter shifted slightly, "Some people don't like us," he whispered, "that's all. We stopped them."

"Majesties," Oreius said.

"Yes, Oreius?" Peter asked, not moving.

"This is Swiftwing," Oreius said, "the Griffon who spotted the archer."

"Thank you, Oreius," Peter said. "We owe you our lives, Swiftwing."

"You owe me nothing, your Majesty. I did what any true Narnian would have done."

Lucy turned her head so she could see the Griffon. He was grey with black around his eyes and down his face, and scattered across his body. "Nevertheless," Peter said, "you called out." He hesitated, "Oreius spoke with me this morning of a need for guards, Swiftwing. At the time, I told him find someone to oversee the creation of such a group. It would be an honor if you would consent to be part of that."

"It is my honor, Majesty." Swiftwing replied.

Lucy sat up and rubbed her face, "Thank you," she said.

"PETER!" Susan cried.

"Over here," Peter replied.

Susan and Edmund came from around Swiftwing, "Are you ok?" Susan asked.

Lucy burst into tears and threw herself at Susan, who caught and held her. She buried her face into Susan's neck and shoulder, trembling. Warm arms held her close, "I think Lucy's in shock," Peter said. "I'm fine, thanks to Swiftwing here."

"What happened to your eye?" Edmund asked.

"Lucy hit me," Peter replied, "I think she wasn't expecting me to be the one grabbing her."

Lucy turned slightly, "Sorry Peter," she said.

"It's ok," Peter replied. "That's good instincts to have, Lu." He glanced over his shoulder, "We should let them finish cleaning up out here," he said.

"All right," Susan said.

The four Pevensies stood and made their way to one of the galleries that lined the terrace. Swiftwing and a black panther followed them. Peter turned slightly, "Did you need something?" He asked.

"Only to know that you are safe," Swiftwing replied.

Peter nodded slightly and continued, "There's a room just down here, a lounge we can sit down in there."

The room Peter took them to was narrow, but long, with a u-shaped couch and large windows opening to the sea. "What happened?" Edmund asked.

"First thing," Peter said, "we're firing Lucy's tutor. He smacked her with his cane for asking who built Cair Paravel."

"Is that what you were asking me about," Susan asked turning to Lucy.

Lucy, situated between Edmund and Peter in the deepest part of the 'u', nodded, "You were busy though."

Susan reached over and pressed her hand on Lucy's knee, "I'm sorry, Lucy."

"I was on my way there to fire him," Peter continued, "when Swiftwing called for us to get down." He turned to look at the Griffon now standing by the door. "What did you see, Swiftwing?"

"Majesties," Swiftwing said, "I was sent by my clan to the Cair to meet with you on the subject of fishing rights. I was curious, having never seen a Son of Adam or Daughter of Eve, so I hovered for a moment. I saw High King Peter and Queen Lucy on the terrace and then I noticed the archer on the roof. I knew I had the angle wrong for a proper dive before he could fire, so I called my warning first and then dove. It was a dwarf, High King, and he is dead."

Peter nodded, "I knocked Lucy out of the way and that's when the attack really started. There were ten of them. I don't know who the panther was."

"It was I," spoke the Panther, pacing around the couch. "Your Majesties, I am Sláine, General Oreius asked me to keep an eye on Queen Lucy after she was lost in the woods last week. It was my understanding that he intended to speak with you about this."

"He brought it up this morning," Peter said, "thank you. Your actions, like Swiftwing, saved our lives today."

Lucy leaned against Edmund and looked up at Peter, "Why did they want to hurt us?"

"I don't really know," Peter admitted. "The centaur shouted 'death to humans'."

"There were survivors," Sláine said, "no doubt those questions can be answered in interrogation before they are executed."

"Executed?" Susan said.

"Its high treason," Edmund said in a distant voice, "they were attempting to kill the High King and a Queen of Narnia by Aslan's Will. According to the law books I've found, high treason only has one sentence, execution. How it's done is left to the monarch, but beheading is the most common."

"Peter?" Lucy asked.

Peter nodded slightly, "They've proven themselves willing to claim our lives, Lu. I'm sorry, but there is no other recourse for them."

Lucy sniffed slightly, "All right," she whispered.

Someone knocked on the door, and everyone tensed. Peter stood and moved free of the couch, then nodded at Swiftwing who pressed the floor level door latch and let the door open partially, "Yes?"

"Swiftwing, have you seen the High King?" Oreius was heard to ask.

Swiftwing glanced over his shoulder and Peter nodded again, "I'm here, General," he said, walking over to the door.

"Majesty," Oreius said, "this is Patrouse, he is an able commander who I would like to see in charge of the Royal Guard."

Lucy turned to see two centaurs standing just outside the door, "Do it," Peter said. "And if there are any survivors of today's attack, keep them that way. I want to know about who they are and why they attacked us. After that, they will meet the fate of any who commit high treason."

"As you command, Majesty," Oreius agreed.

"And Captain Patrouse," Peter added, "I want you to find a better name than the Royal Guard. Something distinctive, if you would; any monarch can have a Royal Guard."

"I will reflect upon it," Patrouse replied with a bow.


	2. The Griffon Guard

Disclaimer; The Chronicles of Narnia belongs to the estate of C.S. Lewis. I am many things, but I am not an estate.

* * *

Peter had never thought of himself as someone who needed to be followed around, and found it highly unnerving to turn his head and see a Griffon and a Great Cat or a Hound following him. One of the few consistencies was that there was always a Griffon, and if he was in audience, it was a matched set on either end of the dais. In the halls and terraces of Cair Paravel, there was usually a Great Cat or a Hound around as well.

Swiftwing was his most constant companion, the grey Griffon having been confirmed as the head of his guard. His most visible partner was a Cat named Fionnlagh, a snow leopard who seemed to enjoy trying to make Peter laugh at the most inopportune times. Swiftwing did not leave him and Fionnlagh arrived at dinner the day of the attack.

The next morning, Patrouse approached Peter after breakfast in his office with a scroll in hand. "Majesty," he said, "I have completed my preliminary work on the Guard."

Peter nodded, "Let's hear it then."

"At your word, I am to command the Guard," Patrouse said, "with either the title of Captain or Commander as you wish, Majesty." He placed the scroll on the table before Peter, "I have reached an ideal estimate of a hundred and fifty forces, divided into one of five units. The primary unit is specific to the defense of Cair Paravel as a whole and consists of the largest division of Guards given the size and scope of their mission. The remaining one hundred will be divided into four units devoted the personal safety of your majesties. There will be five units of five beings, with specific attention paid to night and day guards."

"We're to be surrounded by five beings at all time?" Peter asked.

"Not exactly, Majesty," Patrouse replied. "I would recommend a minimum of two Guards at all times. At the moment, Swiftwing and Fionnlagh are the primary two. The other three guards on duty would not be a visible protection. The current projection is for the guards to be on a rotating four period watch duty. One group would begin their duties just before dawn and extend through most of the morning, and then switch to the day guard. A third group would take up the task until nearing midnight and then the final watch would be on duty. The fifth group would be on down time."

Peter nodded, "This looks excellent, Patrouse. You clearly put a lot of thought into this."

"Thank you," Patrouse replied.

Peter stood and opened his door, spotting the young Hound that had been assigned to run his messages, he said, "Go to Her Majesty, Queen Susan and request that she make time for a meeting after the noon meal. Then bear the same message to King Edmund and Queen Lucy."

"At once," the Hound said, and took off.

Peter turned, "I give you permission to continue preparation for the Guard. After I speak with my siblings, I have every confidence that you will be given full authority."

"Thank you, Majesty," Patrouse said with a bow.

"Excellent," Peter said, "I am sure you have much to do."

"Of course," Patrouse said, and hurried from the room. Peter sighed and bowed his head for a moment, then straightened his shoulders and headed into the corridor. Trying to ignore his shadows, he headed up, towards the Great Library. As they walked through the atrium before the library, an outraged shout rang out.

"King Peter," Swiftwing cried, and slid into him, knocking him to the floor.

Fionnlagh leaped over the two and crouched before them, tail lashing back and forth.

Lucy came running, crying, from the library, Sláine right behind her. "What?" Peter managed.

Lucy turned and stared into the library, "I won't," she shouted, "I won't, I won't, I won't!"

A faun appeared in the doorway with a large cane in his hand, "I have been entrusted with your education. You will sit and do your work." He slammed the cane down on the ground.

"I will not," Lucy replied, "not if you're going to hit me."

"Impertinent child," the faun roared.

Swiftwing managed to get up, and Peter surged to his feet as well, "Faun," he snapped.

"Peter," Lucy said joyfully.

"High King?" The Faun said.

"You are the Faun Aelius, are you not?" Peter asked.

"I am," the Faun said, bowing deeply.

"I regret to inform you, Faun Aelius," Peter said, "but your services are no longer needed. Between your fondness for corporal punishment and the reports I have received of your inept teaching there will be no recommendations coming from Cair Paravel. In fact, it is our strong suggestion that you rework your material and rethink your discipline strategy before you seek any other teaching position."

"Your Majesty, it is often necessary to be firm with a willful child," Aelius said.

Peter gripped Rhindon in an effort to keep his temper. "Firm does not mean hitting a child. Or did you forget that you were instructing Our Sister-Queen?" He stared at the Faun, wishing he had a few more inches so that he could be taller than his opponent was. "You have one week to vacate any rooms you use in Cair Paravel and you are not welcome to return. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes Majesty," Aelius said.

Peter watched the Faun vanish back into the library and turned to Lucy, "Now, I believe that Mr. Tumnus has not yet left the Cair."

"No," Lucy replied, drying her eyes with a handkerchief. "His home isn't ready yet. Between what the secret police did to it and the thaw it's bad off."

"Then we should see if he would like something to occupy his time," Peter replied, putting his hand on Lucy's shoulder and steering her away from the library.

"What do you mean?" Lucy asked as they walked.

"Well," Peter said, "I'm sure that Mr. Tumnus could not only tutor you in the important aspects of Narnian history, but he might be willing to serve in a similar aspect for Edmund, Susan and I in our free time."

"Oh," Lucy said, she clapped her hands and skipped, "That would be wonderful."

Peter looked over his shoulder at the four guards following him. "Swiftwing," he said, "I want you to start thinking. When I go to arms lessons, we are going to practice drills for various occasions. When you have down time, I would also like you to discuss with Patrouse and Oreius the need for threat assessment in the Guard. I'm sure there are better ways to protect us from harm than giving us more bruises."

"I'll see to it," Swiftwing said.

"After all," Peter continued, "I'd hate for the head of my personal guard to be less than the best."


	3. The Queen's Arrows

Disclaimer: I do not own the Chronicles of Narnia.

A/N: This is the day after the last chapter.

* * *

Susan would never develop at taste for weapons the way Peter and to some extent Edmund had. She understood why Peter insisted on self defense lessons for her and Lucy, and the drills that she ran through with her guards. She did it, but in return, she spent an hour every day with her bow, practicing her skill as an archer under the patient tutelage of a dwarf archer.

The targets were set up on an open field across the Great River, near where the core of the army had begun to build. Susan went there by boat, her own escape from Cair Paravel. With her went the sleek panthers of her guard, and that made her smile a little, because Peter got Griffins and a smart mouthed snow leopard, but Susan got _panthers,_ black and sleek, death with claw and fang, but beautiful as well.

Today, however, Susan had been invited to be the first to try the archery field in Cair Paravel, finally restored from the damage of the Long Winter. This particular field was far safer than crossing the river, Peter had commented at breakfast.

Susan would later regard that memory as highly ironic.

The archery court was lined with high white walls, with a gallery behind her being the sole entrance to the area. Susan used a faun bow for practice, learning the true ins and outs of archery instead of depending on the magic of her Christmas bow. Carefully, she began to shoot, tracking the different targets and letting the world fall away for her.

One of the panthers roared as pain blossomed in Susan's left shoulder. With little conscious thought, she fell. Sitting in the dirt of the court she stared at the fletching now embedded in her shoulder. One of the panthers, Susan dimly thought it was Cathal, showed up in front of her. A second panther appeared beside her; Susan saw the silver collar and knew it to be Nola. "Majesty," she said, "we must move."

Susan nodded dumbly and started to push up only to scream as pain ripped through her shoulder, "I can't," she whimpered, curling forward.

"Put your arm around my neck," Nola said, "I'll see what I can do."

Susan wrapped her good arm around Nola and managed to get on her knees. Whimpering and sobbing with pain, she crawled beside the panther. Just as they reached the gallery, Peter and Edmund came in with bared swords. "What happened?" Peter demanded.

"Archer on the roof, sire," Nola said as Susan leaned against her side. "One of the hawks went up after it."

"Susan!" Lucy said, Susan saw her and two fauns hovering in the doorway, "I brought my cordial."

"Right," Peter said, he slid his sword back in its sheath as Lucy knelt beside Susan.

"We have to get the arrow out first," one of the fauns said. "Majesty, if I may?"

"Of course," Peter said, "Lucy, come here."

The faun knelt beside Susan, "This is going to hurt a lot," he told Susan. "I'm sorry." Then he nodded to Nola, "Hold her, please."

Nola carefully draped her upper body over Susan, who closed her eyes as the faun took a firm grip on the arrow and snapped it. The jolt made Susan scream again before she finally surrendered to blessed oblivion.

A cool feeling moved through Susan's body, she coughed and opened her eyes to find her siblings leaning over her, "What," she asked hoarsely and coughed again, "What happened?"

Peter's face hardened, a queer, flat and cold quality came into his blue eyes, "Archer assassin," he said. "He's been taken care of."

Susan carefully sat up and looked down, her dove gray dress now had a stain and a hole and she flashed back to the pain that had ripped through her. "Is everyone ok?" She asked, looking around.

"You were the only one hit," Peter said, standing. He offered his hand and helped her up. "Not that that's a consolation, but still."

Susan smiled weakly and gripped his arm as she became light headed for a moment. "What was that you were saying this morning about the archery court?"

Peter smiled, his eyes the warm blue of the sky. "I guess I'm the one eating crow tonight." He slid his arm around her waist. "Let's get you sitting down, Su."

Susan leaned into Peter and let him steer her through Cair Paravel. "Majesty," Swiftwing said as he joined them. "I spoke with Captain Patrouse; he is enacting an aerial patrol as we speak. He wanted to wait until he had permission before setting patrols."

"Thank you," Peter said.

They entered Susan's chambers and Peter handed Susan over to the two faun maidens who served her. As she changed, she listened as Peter explained the plans for their guards. "Why don't you want to call them Royal Guards?" Lucy asked.

Susan held up her hand, stilling the maids, she wanted to hear this. "Lucy, remember how you got homesick when we had chicken for dinner."

"Yes," Lucy replied.

"Well, England has Royal Guards. We have to have guards, I hope you know that." He paused, "Every time someone says Royal Guards, it makes me homesick. Since we need the protection that the Guards can give us, the most important thing to do is give them a special name; something that speaks of their duty, to protect us and Cair Paravel. Can you understand that?"

"I understand," Lucy replied.

Susan smiled and nodded at her maids, who finished lacing her up. Carefully she stood and walked back into her front room. "I was listening," she said as soon as they noticed her. "I say that what Patrouse has in mind is fair. I'm not the expert, but I can live with the idea." She sat down on one of the chairs and smiled as Nola laid down beside her.

Edmund coughed, "I agree," he said from the couch he'd sprawled on. "I'd rather not have guards at all, but since we need them, this is the best way to go about it."

"All right," Peter said from where he stood by the fireplace, "and what do you say, Lucy?"

Lucy, who had half curled up on a footstool, shrugged, "If you think it's a good idea, Peter."

"Then we shall formally employ Patrouse as Captain of our Guard and set him the task of protecting us, Cair Paravel and those who reside within," Peter said looking at them. "So we speak."

"So we intend," Susan, Edmund and Lucy chimed in.

"So let it be done," they finished in a ragged harmony.

Susan remembered when Edmund had told them of the traditional manner of enacting a royal command; it had been one of the first things he'd shared with them from his law library.


	4. The Just Swords

Disclaimer: I do not own The Chronicles of Narnia

A/N: This takes place the day after the last one. I'm toying with the idea of writing more about Priscus...I just like the idea. Not so sure that I'm good at action scenes though.

* * *

Edmund had accepted the guards that Patrouse had assigned a pair of dogs; one looked like a Mastiff and the other like an English Bulldog. He knew there were others, but Jago and Pasco were the two he met first. Unlike Peter, Susan and Lucy, Edmund spent most of his time in the law library or the Great Library, depending on what he was looking up. He worked alongside a faun named Priscus, who was from a long line of historians and law experts. For Priscus, having the opportunity to study the books preserved in Cair Paravel was the high point of his very long life. As he told Edmund one day as they researched Dwarf law after a dispute, he had seen five summers before the White Witch sent the Long Winter.

He was the only one Edmund felt really understood him, if not entirely, then at least enough that they were friends. Today, they were in the Great Library tracking down journals written by Centaur stargazers in response to an obscure law granting the stargazers unusual access to the Royals in Narnia. Edmund was curious to know if this was based on fact, or if there had been a King who had depended on the stargazers for advice in ruling Narnia.

Just as Edmund reached the corner of the Library that they thought would hold the scrolls, he heard a faint thump. He looked around, then shook his head, it was either his imagination or another scholar was in the stacks. Edmund bent over to take a scroll from a lower rack and when he straightened up; he found a dagger embedded in the wooden frame. He spun just as the knife thrower came out of hiding. "No!" Priscus shouted, he came around the frame as Edmund froze, faster than his age suggested, throwing himself in front of Edmund as the knife thrower cast again.

Time seemed to slow down for Edmund, he could hear the odd thump of the knife striking home and the strangled gasp from Priscus. As he stared, the elderly faun fell to the floor, a knife in his chest. "Run," Priscus whispered. "Run, my King."

Edmund looked up at the knife thrower and ran. "Pasco, Jago," He shouted as he sprinted into the stacks. He managed to end up by one of the large fireplaces just as Jago found him. "Assassin," he panted out, dropping his head for a moment. "He, oh God, he got Priscus."

"Majesty," the bulldog said, "you must go. We will find this killer."

"Where," Edmund asked.

"I'll show you," a fox said, "it's this way."

Edmund took a deep breath and followed the fox as Jago bounded back the way he'd come. They reached the main aisle, and Edmund started down it for the doors. "Majesty, look out!" The fox bellowed.

Edmund, a veteran of many games of football, dropped, one leg extended like he was determined to kick a winning goal. He slid across the polished wood floor and under a table. Glancing around, Edmund saw his sword hanging from the chair with his bag and he slid out to grab it, turning just in time to block another sword. He stared at his attacker, different from the last one. A faun, he thought as he blocked a second strike, and then a third. "Edmund!" Susan shouted behind him just as his cloth 'indoor' boots slipped on the hardwood, sending him sprawling.

The swordsman sprouted two arrows in rapid succession, and as he fell over, Edmund realized that this one was human.

"Edmund," Peter said, coming up beside him.

"I'm ok," Edmund said, still staring at his attacker.

"The other one got away, your Majesties," Jago announced. "I think you should come see this, however."

Peter helped Edmund up, and the brothers followed their guide to where Pasco was pacing in front of a blank wall, growling. "What happened?" Peter asked.

"I was tracking the other one," Pasco growled, "the one as killed the Historian. He vanished right here. His smell is all over this wall, but not beyond it."

"Maybe it's a secret passageway," Edmund offered.

Peter stared at him a moment, "Edmund, what happened?"

Edmund took a shaky breath, "Priscus and I were researching a queer law we found. We were back there," he pointed, "and, I bent down to get something and when I stood up, there was a knife embedded in the frame of the scroll racks. Then Priscus…" he stopped.

"Ed," Peter said, gripping his shoulder tightly, "I need to know."

"He jumped in front of me," Edmund said, fighting back his tears. "He took a knife for me and told me to run."

Peter turned, "Where were you?" He asked Jago and Pasco, his voice harsh.

"The library was empty," Jago said, "we stayed to watch the doors as they are the only entrance and exit."

"Clearly the library wasn't empty," Peter snapped.

"There was no one here," said the fox. "I check when King Edmund and Historian Priscus decided they needed to come to the Great Library. Cade and I were both patrolling the walls when King Edmund shouted."

"Who leads Edmund's guard?" Peter asked, "I want to speak with them this instant. Clearly there has been a great misunderstanding in his selection and an honored Historian has paid the price.

_Priscus,_ Edmund thought, feeling tears sting his eyes. The faun had been the only friend he'd made in Narnia, and now he was dead; killed to protect him, Edmund, the one who had betrayed Narnia. _The price is too much,_ he thought, remembering Aslan's warning about the cost he might pay for his ignorance. _Aslan, this price is too much._ Edmund leaned into his brother's warm grip on his shoulder as the world began to spin around him. He locked his knees to keep from swaying as a loud rushing sound filled his ears. He could barely hear his sword as it hit the ground, nor his brother shouting his name as he sank into comforting darkness.


	5. The Valiant Dagger

Disclaimer: The Chronicles of Narnia belongs to the Estate and Heirs of CS Lewis...I am neither

A/N: I have a vague idea on how to wrap this up, but it eludes me currently.

* * *

After the attack on Susan, Lucy didn't leave her rooms. They were her sanctuary in a world suddenly plunged into darkness and violence. At first, she had hid under the bed with Sláine, but hunger drove her out to eat the food brought to her. Then she curled up on the divan with a book Mr. Tumnus had given her while Sláine stepped out to speak with the tiger outside her door.

A sudden creak made her look up at the door, which was still closed, then a hand clamped over her mouth while a second one wrapped under her arms. Lucy screamed on instinct, dropping the book as she fought the hands that held her. When her fingers would not work, she bit down on the hand in front of her, hard. A sweet, coppery liquid filled her mouth before the hand moved. She spat and howled in outrage and fear.

There was an odd noise, like a yip, and whoever was holding her fell backwards, pulling her along for the ride. He hit the ground with a cracking thud, groaned and was still. Lucy fought his suddenly limp and heavy hands off her and stood up. It was a human, she thought, sprawled on the floor, his head twisted at an odd angle. There was a creak and a thump, and she was plunged into darkness.

Lucy screamed again, "Majesty!" Sláine shouted.

"Sláine!" Lucy called back.

"Majesty, where are you?" Sláine asked.

"I don't know," Lucy replied, "I can't see."

"Tell me what happened," Sláine said.

"Someone grabbed me," Lucy said, "and pulled me off the couch, I bit him and he fell and he's not moving, he made a funny sound when he fell and it got dark and he's not moving."

"Calm down, your Majesty. Kintor has gone to fetch Peter. It looks like you've found one of the secret passageways." Sláine murmured. "If you can hear me, that means there's fresh air. Can you see anything?"

Lucy shook her head, "No." She reached out and found what seemed to be a wall. "I'm scared, Sláine."

"It's going to be ok," Sláine replied.

Something brushed against Lucy's leg and she shrieked. "What?" Sláine asked.

"It's ok," someone else said. "It's me, Sláine, it's Bran."

"Bran? How did you get in there," Sláine asked.

"I followed the Son of Adam," Bran replied, "he and his friends came through my corner of the woods a week ago. They killed Braith on their way through. I followed them to see where they were going and when they came here and entered the tunnels, I decided to stay with them. When this one bit the Son of Adam, I tripped him. Damn fool fell on me though."

"I'm Lucy," Lucy offered tentatively. "What…who are you?"

"I'm a weasel, Lucy, named Bran."

"Oh," Lucy said, "I'm sorry about your friend."

"Thank you," Bran replied. "That's right kind of you."

"Bran, can you go back to where this one entered the tunnels?" Sláine asked, "so that you can lead us to Queen Lucy?"

"'Fraid not, Sláine," Bran replied. "When that human fell on me, he broke something. I'm not going to be doing much running anymore."

"Oh," Lucy said, "if I had my cordial I could fix that."

"Lucy!" Peter called.

"Peter!" Lucy exclaimed, jumping up.

"Lucy, are you ok?" Peter asked.

"I'm scared," Lucy replied, "I want out of here."

"We'll figure this out," Peter replied.

"It's dark in here," Lucy whimpered.

"I know," Peter said, "I know. Just, sit down and don't move. If nothing else, we'll bust out the wall."

"Who is that?" Bran asked.

"My brother," Lucy replied, sliding back down the wall, "High King Peter."

"High King?" Bran said, then raised his voice, "Your majesty, High King Peter."

"Who is that?" Peter asked.

"My name is Bran, sire. I'm in the tunnels with Lucy. I followed three Sons of Adam from my home in the forest into the tunnels below Cair Paravel. I got lost when they split up, but the Human I followed tried to kidnap Lucy. He's…no longer a threat, but the other two are."

"One of them is dead," Peter said coldly. "The other is somewhere in the tunnels. Are you able to fight."

"No, sire," Bran replied, "The Human fell on me and I've been injured. If he gets in reach, I could bite him, but that's about it."

"All right," Peter said. "I've sent for some dwarves to bust out the wall. We have no time to waste in searching for an opening mechanism if one of them is still lose."

Lucy hugged her chest, closing her eyes against the unrelenting darkness. "Lucy," Peter said after what felt like forever, "they're here. We're about to start taking the wall down."

"Ok," Lucy replied.

"Lucy," Bran said, "we should move."

"Right," Lucy said.

"I'll need help," Bran continued, "I'm still stuck under the man."

Lucy reached out and found the man's leg after a moment, feeling her way up, she encountered warm fur, "Here," she asked.

"Yes," Bran said.

Carefully, Lucy lifted the man and pulled Bran free. Cradling the weasel, she moved away from the wall she'd been sitting against and down the passage. Loud thuds filled the air and she could hear rocks hitting the ground. Finally, the wall began to show cracks, and then light began to filter in. Slowly, but steadily, the light increased and Lucy turned away to help her eyes adjust. Finally, Peter said, "Lucy, let's see if you can fit through this."

Lucy hurried back and looked at Peter, "This is Bran," she said, holding him out.

"It is an honor, High King," Bran managed.

"The honor is mine," Peter replied. He reached through the hole, took Bran from Lucy, and backed away.

Lucy reached to boost herself into the hole when someone grabbed her from behind, "Not everything shall end in failure," a harsh voice growled.

Lucy tried to pull away from whoever had her, but only succeeded in making him almost drop her. Her hands hit the other man, the one who had tried to kidnap her and she felt the familiar hilt of a dagger. Her hand closed around it and she screamed to cover up the sound as she pulled it. "Let her go!" Peter demanded.

"No," the man said. He readjusted her grip so that Lucy was held in front of him.

Lucy held the dagger above his arm and looked at Peter, who was shaking his head, then she twisted, using his leg for leverage, she managed to turn enough that she could drive the dagger into his side. Something warm and wet covered her hand as the man grunted and dropped her. There were two thuds and Lucy didn't look back, dropping the dagger as she scrambled to get through the hole. Peter scooped her up on the other side. "Lucy," he whispered.

"Peter," Lucy began, seeing her bloody hands, "I think I'm going to be sick." Peter carried her over to the wash basin and held her hair back as she emptied her stomach.

"I'm proud of you," Peter said as he handed her a water flask. "I don't think I could be any prouder of you."

Lucy burst into tears.


	6. The Lion's Roar

Disclaimer; The Chronicles of Narnia belongs to the Heirs and Estates of CS Lewis. Not me.

A/N: Five rewrites later, this is it.

* * *

Lucy shivered from her place beside Edmund. The air was cold in the pre-dawn, but the army and local Narnians had gathered to see the first Open Judgment since before the White Witch. Susan, on the other side of Edmund, gave Lucy a worried glance. "Peter," Susan said, "are you sure Lucy should see this?"

Lucy sniffed softly, "I'm a Queen of Narnia," She said, fighting to keep her voice steady. "I will stay."

Peter looked at Lucy from where he paced in front of them, then inclined his head slightly to her as the first rays of the sun touched Cair Paravel. Turning, Peter looked over the crowed, then nodded to Oreius who made a gesture behind him. The last of the assassins was brought out, a faun, who kept his head raised as he was lead before them. "Narnia," Peter called as loudly as he could. "This is the last of the assassins who attempted to claim Our life and that of our Sister-Queen Lucy. He is the sole member of that foul brotherhood to find true repentance in his act and as such, We have agreed to grant him the reprieve of a traitor's death. Though this Faun will face death, We give him the mercy of a swift death."

The Faun knelt before Peter unaided and rested his head on the wooden block. Peter lifted his sword so that it glinted in the sun. Griping it with both of his hands, he took a deep breath and brought the sword down with a grunting roar.

Lucy jerked, but kept her eyes on Peter's back, trying to keep her breathing calm. Peter had not let her see the other assassins die, instead setting her to talk with the weasel Bran to learn about the human killers and their arrival in Narnia from the sea. She knew, had overheard, that the others had been burned alive. She also knew why the Faun had been granted his request for mercy. She closed her eyes as the Cair Guards stepped forward to remove the body and remembered a sunny court yard. She had hidden under a bench that day, and the Faun had spotted her. He'd lifted his sword to attack her and then froze, as if awe struck, before Sláine had taken him down. That moment of hesitation, witnessed by Sláine and herself, had led to this day.

"By Aslan," Peter called, "thus Justice is done."


End file.
